Fake Date
by Little Miss Illusional
Summary: Theresa wants a fake date to make Jay jealous. Neil agrees. It's quite possible she hasn't thought this through.


A/N: I'm back! Here's just a quick one shot. And yes, there should be an update on Series Three later. Or possibly a Neil-centric long shot in the same world as Streets/Lights/Irrespective/Pyrrhic. Stay tuned.

UPDATE: Thank you Tinian for pointing out some mistakes, which I have now fixed (it's rather obvious that my Beta was on holidays, sorry!)

* * *

Fake Date

It had been two weeks since Cronus had last been seen, and the brownstone was in an uneasy state of reluctant contentment on Saturday. Jay had left just after breakfast for a day-long training session with Hera. In his absence, Herry and Odie had managed to _acquire _("Internet piracy isn't a crime," Odie had insisted. "It's just… a dubious question of morality and a website's security.") a new zombie apocalypse movie that featured horrible CGI and improbable biological research on the director's behalf. Naturally, Neil had gravitated to the living room as soon as he'd heard of the pair's pirating; the blonde loved a cheesy slasher almost as much as a decent mani-pedi. Atlanta raced in just before it started with bowls of popcorn and a wicked grin that simply said _horror_. Archie sat on the floor, taking up most of the carpet with scattered books and paper, attempting the age-old quest of every student – to watch a movie and complete homework simultaneously. Naturally, Atlanta had other ideas. As the opening credits rolled across the screen, she began flicking popcorn at the warrior, giggling conspicuously. Odie and Herry were only too happy to join and Archie hastily put his books aside. The movie started with what appeared to be a bizarre homage to Hitchcock's _Birds_; Neil accused the main character of necro-avian rape. All in all it was a rather normal Saturday afternoon.

Then Theresa burst into the living room.

"I need a boyfriend," she declared.

"Yeah?" Archie smirked and his eyes flicked up and down, taking in her messy hair and slippers, implying as he went. Neil glanced up from his mirror, watching Archie's whole face sneer, and thought that the warrior was being a bit unfair because, okay, _he_ wouldn't say no to Theresa. Or Atlanta, even. Of course then he had the idea of the two girls being prepared to get intimate with him, and then somehow Miranda Kerr got involved, and it wasn't until Odie stepped on his foot going for the popcorn that he remembered Theresa was a freaking _psychic_ and she probably saw all of what he was thinking.

_Oops_.

"Why do you need a fake date?" Herry asked, open mouthed, spraying the room and its occupants with popcorn. Neil recoiled swiftly, shrieking about his hair as he ran for the cover of the kitchen.

"Because…" Theresa looked quite flabbergasted. "Well…"

"Because why?" Atlanta asked, her hazel eyes glittering mischievously. Her female intuition had already led her to guess why Theresa would even need a fake date.

"Because I need to get Jay's attention!" the psychic blurted, words erupting from her mouth.

Herry laughed. "You mean, make him jealous?"

"No!"

Archie smirked. "Sounds like it."

"I don't need to get Jay jealous!" Theresa insisted, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I just… need to show him that I am a person who is dateable and available for dating. So which one of you will be my fake date?"

Archie stole a quick glance at Atlanta, and then shook his head violently in Theresa's direction. "No. Count me out. I don't date drama queens, even if it's a fake date."

Theresa gave him a filthy look, but said nothing.

"I'm out too," Odie declared, flickering his eyes between the movie and the drama unfolding in front of him. Before the opening credits could finish, he wisely flicked the pause button. "No offense, Terri, but we're not really each others' type." He didn't add that he'd never actually been on a date, therefore he'd be clueless on what do to, and the thought of fake dating Theresa scared him. She was beautiful and smart and terrifying and exactly not the kind of person he pictured himself having dinner with. Plus Jay would likely kill him.

They all watched as Theresa turned her attention to Atlanta, a cross between a pleading and insistent look on her face as the younger girl squirmed under her stare.

"Well? Theresa asked in the pleading-demanding way. "Will you be my fake date?"

"Bu- what… I…"

"What?" Theresa's eyes narrowed. "Have you got something against same-sex fake couples?"

"What?! No! I…"

"Do you find me unattractive?"

"_Terri_- I… what?!"

Theresa pursed her lips. "Or is it because I'm not the boy whom you have a crush on, hmm?"

Atlanta could only stutter and blush.

Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Theresa moved onto Herry. Forgetting all diplomacy, she glared at the brawn, silently daring him to say no, knowing full well that she could scare the crap out of him and probably talk him into having dinner with her.

But then Neil returned from the kitchen, oddly beaming, saving Herry from Theresa's murderous gaze.

"I wouldn't mind going out with a hot redhead," Neil announced to no one in particular. "I've gone out with some pretty fine redheads. Not as fine my blonde locks, though. None of my exes even come close to this," he gestured vaguely to all of him, "am I right?"

"Firstly," Theresa turned on him, 5"2 of small, orange-haired fury. "You don't have exes; you have girls you occasionally flirt with and never call-"

"I know, right?" Neil grinned. "My life is awesome!"

But Theresa didn't seem to care about his dating prowess. Before he could get his sentence out she was ranting again, her eyes taking on a dangerously purple tint that they'd all learnt to associate with trouble.

"-_Secondly_, just because you're pretty it doesn't mean you can act like a jerk. And it's rather rude when your friends, like me, are in times of need."

Neil only winked seductively. "So you think I'm pretty?" He already knew he was pretty (Zeus, he was _beautiful_), but it was nice when other people pointed it out too. Especially girls like Theresa, who wasn't nearly as attractive as him, but she could hold her own in terms of aesthetics. A thought struck him. "Wait, do fake boyfriends get to make out-"

Theresa choked on the rest of her rant and stared at him in horror. "WHAT?!"

"If I go on a fake date with you, do we just fake make out or can I get some proper action-"

A purple flash echoed around the room; Theresa was its epicenter. They all ducked behind the couches, except for Neil, whose luck seemed to have deserted him for a moment. When they peeped out from their hiding places, Theresa was standing furiously over the blonde, who clamped a disbelieving hand to his face.

"OWWW!" he shrieked. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

"You know damn well, Neil. Now, don't speak for the rest of the day or… or… or I'll psychic punch you in the face… again!"

Archie shook his head, disapprovingly and gleefully simultaneously. "And they think _I _have anger issues."

Theresa whipped around immediately and spotted him beside the couch. "Will you be my fake date if I threaten you?"

The warrior eyed her warily. It was like being savaged by a china doll. A scary, orange-haired, incredibly gifted psychic china doll that was just as likely to kill him as hug him. He chose his words very carefully.

"I don't think I'd be much of a fake date-"

"Why?" Theresa laughed irately. "Because you're too busy being head over heels for someone else?" She chose that moment to give a very pointed look in Atlanta's direction. If possible, the huntress blushed an even more furious shade of red. Archie was more of a pinkish colour.

When Odie had ducked for cover, he'd managed to get the couch closest to the door. Herry hid close behind him, his huge frame pressed awkwardly between the wall and the couch. They met each others' eyes and made a silent plan, and then slowly crawled out the door, out of sight, not stopping until they had reached the basement and Odie had dead bolted the door behind them. Their hearts were hammering in their ears, but they were safe.

"I feel like we're running away…" Herry mumbled, listening at the door for any sign that they'd been followed.

Odie shook his head. "It's a… tactical retreat! Jay would be proud of us."

Herry nodded. "But what about the others? Shouldn't we, uh, help them escape?"

"They'll be alright," Odie murmured. "And anyway… uh…. sacrifices have to be made."

Silence fell over the two, still crouched in front of the door as a sort of human barricade and actually feeling quite sheepish for leaving Atlanta, Archie and Neil behind. Neither had the guts to drag themselves from the doorway, until Odie gauged that perhaps by some miracle they hadn't been followed (had Neil's luck chosen to escape with them?). He turned to Herry and smiled weakly.

"Wanna watch that movie?"

Back in the living room, Theresa had managed to achieve the ultimate look of evil; a look that Neil was sure she'd stolen from Cronus. He had half a mind to accuse her of fashion-plagiarism, but he didn't particularly feel like being psychically assaulted again. He kept wary eyes on her downturned mouth and narrowed green eyes that transformed her normally pretty face to one of lucid fury.

"I will pay for the date," she muttered angrily, offering up the free meal as her last card.

Neil sighed. "I suppose I could forgive your earlier violence if you're paying." He thought for a second, wondering just how much he could get out of this arrangement. "No being stingy! I don't do cheap takeaway."

"So you'll be my fake date?"

"Can we at least fake make out?"

"_NEIL_."

The blonde shrugged. "Okay. Sheesh. No fake making out. But I want a three-course meal at the new Italian place. And I get to decide what I'm wearing first so you have to dress to match."

Theresa considered his words for a few moments. "I accept your conditions," she sniffed. Already, she had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

"Excellent." Neil grinned. "Seven o'clock, tonight?"

"Fine by me."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a fake date to prepare for and popcorn to pull out of my hair." With that, Neil flounced out of the living room, actually quite chuffed that he'd managed to get a date for the night. It was probably worth getting psychically punched in the face for.

Theresa stared openly at Archie, and then Atlanta, numb shock settling over her for a few seconds, and then quickly bounded up the stairs, out of sight, leaving the huntress and the warrior alone.

"What… what actually just happened?" Atlanta asked weakly, still avoiding looking at Archie. Her cheeks had faded from a fire truck shade to more of a deep magenta.

Archie sighed wearily. "I dunno. But I don't think she's thought it through."

They both stuck their hands into their pockets, almost in unison, and deliberately looked away from each other. Silence engulfed them, the awkwardness being even more apparent when neither of them made any attempt to move, or speak, until Archie finally plucked up the courage.

"Are we going to talk about that whole thing that Theresa… suggested?"

"Nope."

* * *

At promptly six forty five (punctuality was very fashionable, so he'd been told), Neil strode to the foot of the staircase. Dressed in new black jeans and a T-shirt that fitted him perfectly, he wondered briefly if Theresa had gotten his text about the colour scheme and if she thought a scarf would compliment the outfit. He just loved scarves.

He waited another two minutes, sighed impatiently, and hollered.

"THERESAAAAA!"

"What?!"

"I'M WAITING!"

There came a flurry of movement and footsteps, and then Theresa crashed into him as she raced down the stairs. "Have you seen my wallet?" she called, checking each room quickly. He noted with a smile that she'd chosen to wear a simple black dress with tight sleeves that she's bought last time they were at the mall. She'd looked fairly decent in it, as he recalled – not as decent as himself, of course.

Neil dangled the blue wallet as she ran past, prompting the psychic to skid to a halt. She frowned and grabbed it, holding it like a lifeline and simply said, "let's get this over with."

"Sure." Neil held out an arm like he'd seen in old movies, offering his elbow to her very generously. Theresa scowled but took it, walking awkwardly with him as they left the dorm.

Outside, city lights and a build up of traffic punctuated the soft evening glow; a jam wasn't an uncommon sight on their street during the afternoon. They walked past the banked up cars, grateful that the gods had the sense to make their accommodation within walking distance of the CBD. Theresa was also appreciative of the traffic; the blaring of car horns meant that it was too loud to sustain a conversation with Neil, at least for a while.

When they were away from the traffic jam, she asked Neil if he'd made a booking. Neil explained that he didn't understand booking a table (with his luck and charm, planning wasn't a thing he ever needed to do. If he wanted a table, either there would be one available, or one would just _happen_ to become available), and so Theresa spent the walk explaining the system to him. That quickly merged onto the subject of waiters, and then part time jobs.

"… I'm just saying, I don't see modeling as a job. It's a way of life."

"How can it be a 'way of life' if you can only do it while you're young? Does your life end after the age of twenty five?"

"Yes."

"_Neil_."

"What?"

"Look."

They had reached the restaurant, and Theresa pointed to the entry doors. To the dismay of the blonde, there was a queue formed of mostly couples leading from the doorway and onto the pathway. Already, Theresa was shaking her head and sending a rapid volley of curses to Fortuna – and a certain descendant of Narcissus.

"Huh," said Neil. "Perhaps these people should have made a booking."

"_We_ should have made a booking," Theresa grumbled, having half a mind to say that _Neil_ should have made a booking. She went to join the end of the line. Neil followed, wondering if he could sweet talk his way up the queue, or if Theresa could just do her mind-voodoo stuff.

"We're waiting in line," Theresa said huffily – he wondered if she'd read his thoughts. "No cheating the queue."

"But-"

"Theresa's right; no queue jumping, Neil."

They jumped and whirled around. Standing behind them was none other than Jay, looking haggard but also quite bemused.

"Jay!" Theresa squeaked a little too shrilly, awkwardly throwing her arms around him in something that vaguely resembled a hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you had an all day thing with Hera…?"

"Let off early," he explained, nodding a hello to Neil. "So I thought I'd treat myself to dinner." He eyed the two of them, frowning in thought. "What about you guys?"

"Nothing," Theresa said.

"We're on a date," Neil said, a fraction of a second later. He put an arm around Theresa for good measure.

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You two? A date?" There was a weird quality to his voice that neither of them could identify.

"I'm a bit surprised myself," Neil said offhandedly, pulling out his mirror with his free arm and checked his reflection, wondering if Theresa's black dress offset his eyes in a nice way.

Neither Jay nor Theresa had an answer to that. With Neil busy preening, the two awkwardly attempted conversation, which quickly petered off into the line of people, which remained as unmoving as it was long. Every five minutes or so, they would move a step or two closer, but the doors were still impossibly far away from their spot in the queue.

After what seemed like hours (closer to thirty minutes by Jay's reckoning, but time was relative as Neil insisted, not that he actually understood the physics behind it), a waiter appeared at the door.

"Table for three?" the waiter announced hopefully into the crowd of couples. "Any threes?"

Theresa stole a quick glance at Jay, then at Neil, and blurted out "yes!"

The waiter beckoned them forward before either boy had a chance to react. Theresa half dragged them to the front of the queue, and then up the stairs with the waiter leading them.

"_Three_?" Neil hissed, straightening his shirt once Theresa had let go of his forearm. "Isn't this a date? As in, _monogamous_? I mean, I'm flattered, but unless there's another woman involved, namely Miranda Kerr, I wouldn't go for poly-"

"_Shut up Neil_," Theresa tittered, still avoiding having to look at him or Jay. "Do you want to get a table before nine or what?"

Jay made an apologetic noise. "You don't have to do this… I don't want to crash your date…"

"It's not much of a date _now_," Neil sniffed, quite peeved that he'd have to share the night with Jay. Mentally, he bet himself that their leader couldn't last until the entre before mentioning Cronus. And he had been expecting to have Theresa's undivided attention for the duration of the fake date. Now he would have to share her with the reason why he was on a _fake_ date to begin with. He wondered if he should make up something about going to the bathroom and leave them to have a date themselves.

But, being Neil, he was selfish and Zeus, he knew it.

So he allowed Theresa to lead them both through the restaurant.

The waiter deposited them against the western wall, against the glass wall that overlooked the road, and further across, the park. They took their seats with trepidation (bemusement in Neil's case). Somehow, in the awkwardness of selecting a seat, Jay ended up sitting opposite from Theresa, while Neil was across from the wall. Go figure.

He picked up a menu and poured over the Italian words, and was thankful for his knowledge of the language, even more so when Theresa and Jay periodically asked him for the meaning of certain words, and with delight (and pride) he explained them. They ordered, stumbling over the foreign words (or taking immense self-satisfaction in Neil's case, pronouncing all of his choices with flurry and the appropriate hand gestures) and watched as the waiter disappeared, leaving the three of them in what had to be the most awkward moment they'd had in a long time.

"So…" Theresa started, staring at her cutlery. "How was training?"

Jay shrugged. "The usual. Hera's a hard taskmaster. Nothing I can't handle."

"That's… good?"

"Yeah."

Neil laughed. "When is training _ever_ good?"

"It can be, Neil. Hera isn't as demanding as Ares."

"Last time we had her, she gave me homework! _Homework_, Jay! I have a very busy life and homework from the queen of the gods isn't _good_."

"Stop whining, Neil."

Neil was a little hurt by Theresa's exasperated tone. She hadn't had to read the stupid old book about Odie's ancestor. And anyway, she wasn't supposed to be getting irritable with him. She was supposed to be finding him very attractive, and be sympathetic and laughing at all his witty comebacks. This was a _date_ for crying out loud.

_Fake _date, he reminded himself.

He tried to ignore the disenchanted feeling associated with the word _fake_.

"So, how come you guys are on a date?" Jay asked. "I mean, it's great and all, but I just really-"

"-Didn't see this coming?" Theresa interjected, a little breathlessly. "Me too!"

Jay cocked his head, a little bemused, but said nothing.

"I guess I just really like our Terri," Neil said, only half mocking an enthusiastic tone. "And life is short and she is hot." He grabbed at her hand and held it proudly in his own, grinning when Theresa blushed.

When the waiter arrived with their food, they were all relieved to eat instead of making conversation – even when Neil suggested that he and Theresa recreate the spaghetti scene from _Lady and the Tramp_ (neither felt particularly inclined to do it anyway).

They had a brief debate about whether to have dessert (Neil quite simply refused to eat sugary food as it made him break out) and then paid for their meal. Jay protested softly as Theresa paid for all of them, but quietly put his wallet away after witnessing the psychic's jaw clench, just a little – a sure sign that she was very, _very_ irritated.

Neil hadn't bothered to wait at the counter with the two, and had already begun waiting for them at the door. He watched as they approached; the Leader, and the Fighter. She glanced at Jay for a moment as they walked, just for a fraction of a second, and Jay met her eyes, then looked away.

Neil knew that the date, fake or not, had been a mistake.

"Are we going?" Theresa asked him abruptly, crossing her arms across her chest. Neil's eyes darted shrewdly between her and Jay, and then he nodded.

"Let's go," he muttered, and pulled out his mirror in a sort of final gesture. _Worse fake date ever_, he wanted to add, but he decided against it. He didn't want to be psychically punched again.

* * *

Later, after the three had walked home in staunch silence, and he'd completed his evening bathing routine, Neil found himself knocking on Theresa's door with nothing but the most awkward of emotions – _sympathy_.

She answered a few seconds later, and after a few moments of silence, beckoned him inside.

She'd changed out of the black dress into a nightgown and robe, and had her hair in a loose bun slightly askew from the top of her head. She had worn only simple make up for the date, but she must have removed it; her could see the red tinge to her skin that only came from scrubbing.

He noticed these details quickly before taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Perhaps, he wondered, this… _noticing,_ without _judgment_… was what everyone else did when they saw people.

"Did you want something, Neil?" she asked quietly, sitting next to him.

He shrugged. "I… I just wondered if you wanted to… talk? About what happened tonight?"

Theresa stared blankly at him. "You, _talk_? As in, talk about something other than yourself?"

"_I _was there tonight," he replied indignantly. He was beginning to regret this thing called sympathy. There was too little appreciation for things that mattered (namely, himself).

She sighed. "I'm sorry for dragging you into that. I just…"

"-Want to feel loved?"

"Yeah."

They sat on the bed for a long time after that. He pulled out his mirror a few times (just to check that yes, he was still exceptional), but didn't say anything. Maybe Theresa didn't want to talk. He didn't mind. He didn't feel that much like talking anyway. Perhaps it was just enough for both of them to know that the other was there.

Between them, an unspoken apology rested on the edge of the bed.

He eventually stood up and saw himself out. He paused at the door for a few moments and caught her eye.

"For what it's worth…. I think Jay does like you. He's just got a horrible way of showing it."

Theresa looked up. "Even after tonight?"

Neil shrugged. "Even after tonight, yeah."

She smiled in her beautiful bittersweet way as he closed the door behind him. He smiled back, closing the door with a small snap.

He went to check himself in the hallway mirror on his way up to his bedroom, but at the last minute, he stopped. His reflection could only show him so much. It couldn't, for example, show him the colour of Theresa's happy-sad smile, which was lingering in his mind.

And so for the second time that night, he turned around and knocked on a bedroom door. The messy-haired occupant opened it and peered out perplexedly. Neil simply grinned.

"You should take Theresa on a date," he informed Jay offhandedly. "_For_ _realsies_."

Neil turned around and walked back to the stairs.

* * *

Barely a week later, Jay and Theresa wandered into the kitchen for breakfast with their hands firmly entwined and the remnants of the previous night's memories dancing in their eyes. Atlanta pounced on them with a mouthful of congratulations. Herry reluctantly handed Odie a considerable amount of money. Archie made a joke about _the birds and the bees_; Atlanta cuffed him over the head because Jay and Theresa didn't have sex, Theresa would have told her, _right_? Athena then made an offhanded comment about how dating worked four thousand years ago, complete with a cautionary tale about gods disguising themselves as, of all things, _swans_.

In the midst of the chaos, mirror in one hand and double-soy chai latte in the other, Neil smirked knowingly and went back to preening.


End file.
